Married and Parents by Convenience
by LawrenceDaddarioWatsonStewart
Summary: "Katniss Everdeen taking a husband? Getting married?" "Never thought I'd see the day!" "No idea how that boy wooed a fiery soul like her!" Ha! If only they knew the truth... When Katniss's mother dies, when her sister's safety is threatened, Katniss is forced to enter a life she never wanted. Can she be a mother to her sister, and a wife to a boy she barely knows?
1. Chapter 1: The Community Home

**Chapter 1: The Community Home**

It has been three weeks. Three weeks since I discovered my mother cold and stiff in her bed. Three weeks since I had to break the news to Prim that we were now orphans.

And for three weeks, I have been hunting for even more game. For three weeks, I have been selling our possessions on the Hob's black market in chunks at a time. For three weeks, I have been lying to neighbors that the reason no one has seen my mother is because she is out all the time, seeing to a patient.

I can't keep up that lie for much longer. I can't keep any of this up for much longer. But I must. I don't have any other choice.

No children under the age of 18 are allowed to live without a parent or a legal guardian. I cannot pretend that my mother is still living for two years until I could go to the Justice Building and apply to be Prim's guardian myself. And Prim is only twelve. If we are discovered to be orphans living on our own, she will be sent straight to the Community Home, certainly. I could be sent there, too, though I am sixteen.

And children from the Community Home have the highest chances of being Reaped for the Hunger Games. Better to sacrifice a child belonging to no one than to sacrifice one with parents who love them.

A reality where Prim is in the Hunger Games cannot happen. It _will_ not happen, if I have anything to say about it.

This promise gives me the strength to finish loading whatever trinkets I can still stuff into my burlap sack. It is pretty much full to the brim now, but maybe... I go through my mother's drawers. All that I find is her engagement ring, given to her by my deceased father oh so long ago. Though with how bursting my sack is, I doubt even this tiny little thing could fit in it. Still, I could probably haggle a good price for it. I decide to wear the ring on my finger into town until I can barter it, perhaps with Greasy Sae.

Suddenly, there is a knock at the door. I panic. Another visitor, who I will have to convincingly drive away with claims that my mother is out. I rush out of Mother's room, close the door, and order Prim to sit on the barely-cushioned bench beside the far wall.

But I know once I answer the door that I may not be able to drive this person away. Peacekeeper Thread, Cray's second-in-command, stands on our stoop.

I try to keep my voice even as I ask, "What can I do for you, Peacekeeper Thread?"

"Is your mother home, Ms. Everdeen?" he asks.

"No, she is out to see a patient..."

"... Then you won't mind if I have a look around?" I note how his hand tightens on the whip at his belt, making it clear there is no room for argument.

I gulp and stand aside. "Not at all. Come on in."

Thread strides past me into our humble house. My mind is whirring frantically, searching for a way out of this trap. I decide that giving him a tour will both leave me in control of what he can see and perhaps communicate to him that nothing is out of the ordinary.

"... And this is the living room," I say almost breathlessly. Both Thread and I observe Prim watching us from the settee with fearful eyes. I dare to hope that Thread will be satisfied that he has seen enough, but this is dashed when he points to the stairs.

"Mind if I look upstairs?"

Why should he ask me that? He'll go up there whether I mind or not. "I can show you the way..."

"I know how to climb stairs, thank you, Ms. Everdeen." He strides towards them. I frantically follow him. _Not the master bedroom, not the master bedroom..._ I wish desperately. _Please, look anywhere but the master bedroom..._

I nearly cry in agony when the door to that very room is the first one Thread opens. He freezes in the doorway upon looking inside, and so do I. Now he knows. The Peacekeeper turns back to me imposingly.

"How long has your mother been deceased, Ms. Everdeen?"

"Three weeks," my voice barely comes out in a whisper.

"And I seem to recall your father passed away five years ago, is that correct?"

I nod. Thread begins moving towards me. I nervously back up - down the hall, down the stairs and into the living room. All the while, the menacing Peacekeeper speaks.

"You know the laws, Ms. Everdeen: no child under the age of 18 can be living without a parent or legal guardian. Since you did not inform us of these changes in your family circumstances in a timely way... that is grounds for imprisonment. And I'm afraid that your sister will have to be placed in the Community Home."

It is a far worse fate than I had even imagined. I let out a wail and run to the settee, throwing my arms around Prim.

"Not Prim! Please, please, don't take Prim! I'll do anything!"

Thread stops. "Anything?" He considers. "I might be willing to look the other way from this... development, if..." He stares at me.

Prim puts a hand to her mouth in understanding. I turn pale. Thread has just propositioned me. One sexual encounter - my virginity! - for his silence. A bribe of the highest order. Would he take me in my mother's bed, with her decaying body lying right next to us? Or my own bed, the one I have only ever shared with Prim?

My face hardens in sudden resolve. I will do anything for my sister... except that. "No."

Thread's brow furrows as he frowns. He advances towards us, and Prim and I shrink against the wall. "This is not a request, Ms. Everdeen..."

RAT-A-TAT-TAT. A knock at the door. Were it not for the terrifying moment I presently find myself in, I would scowl. _Who the hell is it now?_ But any excuse to get away from Thread is a good one, and I quickly jump up to answer the door.

I am shocked to find Peeta Mellark, the baker's son, in my entryway with a pan full of bread.

"I... thought I might drop these off. For you and your family."

I let him in, flustered, and oddly find myself hoping he never leaves. Thread would not follow through with his intentions while there is a Merchant present. As Peeta sets the bread on the table in the living room, Thread suddenly points to my finger. "I did not know you would soon be married. Who is your husband-to-be?"

I almost jump a foot in the air as I realize he has noticed my mother's engagement ring on my finger. "I... I..."

"I am!" I have no time to stare at Peeta in astonishment before he suddenly swoops me into his arms and kisses me right on the lips. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that Prim's mouth has fallen open in utter shock. Thankfully, Thread does not notice. I have no choice but to close my eyes and put on a show, kissing Peeta back.

"What... mmmmmm... what are you doing?" I whisper under my breath against his lips.

"Just play along," he hisses back. He finally releases me. Thread has at once both a stunned and pleased look on his face.

"Congratulations, Mr. Mellark! And when, pray tell, is the wedding?"

"This Saturday," Peeta blurts out. "At the Justice Building. In fact, I was just about to stop by there and make a reservation after this delivery. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

I barely clue in to the fact that by ' _sweetheart_ ', he means me. "That's... that's right!" I add.

Thread actually laughs. "Look at her, the blushing bride! No wonder there was such a misunderstanding! My apologies, Ms. Everdeen. Congratulations on your impending marriage!" And with that, he shakes Peeta's hand before sweeping out the door.

I wait for a minute or two to make sure he's gone before rounding on the baker's son.

"What in the _hell_ was that?"

"I believe it's called _saving your life_ , sweetheart," Peeta deadpans, and I bristle at his insistent use of that nickname. Peeta Mellark and I are most definitely not sweethearts. We're not even friends. We're not _anything_!

But apparently now we are...

"You lied to a Peacekeeper! A Peacekeeper who is going to go back to command right now, and tell everyone there that we're... engaged! Now we're stuck in... whatever-this-is!"

"And what would you rather be, Katniss? A raped orphan stuck in the Community Home or even in prison, perhaps impregnated by that sleaze?"

I pause in stunned silence. "How much did you hear?"

"All of it. Why do you think I knocked when I did? I knew what he planned to do to you, and I won't stand for it!"

It is rather pathetic that all I can do when around Peeta is stare at him in disbelief. "Well... thank you," I croak out, the words of gratitude sounding foreign on my tongue from lack of use, from intentional lack of being in anyone's debt. "But that still doesn't change the fact that our District's government assumes we are going to be married in two days!"

"Then, we'll just have to go through with it, won't we? What's done is done." My face must betray my lack of confidence, for he suddenly takes my hand. I jolt at his touch. "Katniss, we can be married long enough for both you and Prim to come of age."

I gawp. "So for the next _six years_?"

"If that's what it takes to make sure we're out from under the law. Then, you can throw me into the streets and stage a really messy divorce. I'm very dramatic when I have to be!"

Prim giggles. I scowl, reaching up towards my lips that Peeta kissed out of the blue. "So I've seen." It _was_ quite the performance.

Peeta smiles tenderly. "For the next six years, I promise to take care of you - _both_ of you," and he eyes Prim.

I feel Prim's hand tugging on my arm, eyes on me, begging me to say yes, but I hardly register any of it. This young man is willing to give up his future for a good while just to ensure my sister's and my welfare. I have always been very particular on paying debts, and knowing when a trade is fair. For an offer such as this, I can think of no other, more equal payment than...

"Yes. I will marry you."


	2. Chapter 2: Shotgun Wedding

**Chapter 2: Shotgun Wedding**

With shaking hands, I affix the veil to my head. Prim helps drop the silky satin over my face. At only 16, I never thought that this would happen. Hell, I had once promised that it would never happen to me at any age! But here I am.

I am getting married today. To a Merchant. Peeta Mellark, the Baker's son.

My fiancé stayed with us the rest of that Thursday and into the night, helping us to bury my mother under the cover of darkness. Even though the Peacekeepers now know of her demise, we leave Lillian Everdeen's final resting place unmarked. The rest of District 12 is not aware, and even if they have heard of my sudden marriage to Peeta, they'll expect my mother to be there.

On Friday, Prim and I spend the whole day getting ready for the wedding. I will be wearing my mother's bridal dress - it's the only one we own. I know it is what she would have wanted, even if I intended for the dress to be worn by Prim and only Prim. On _her_ wedding day. Not mine.

Around mid-morning that day, Peeta comes to call. Prim playfully tries to keep him out ("It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!"), but I order her to let my soon-to-be- _husband_ in. I think Peeta and I can agree not to be bothered with such frivolities like superstition. Upon entering, Peeta informs me that he has told his family about his surprise nuptials.

"My mother disowned me," he relays without a shred of irony. "Swears that no son of hers will marry a Seam..." He is fighting against even saying whatever heinous word his witch of a mother cast down on me, on us both.

I raise an eyebrow. "Slut?"

He winces even as he nods in affirmation.

I just huff. "I've heard worse, Peeta. Believe me." A thought comes to my mind. "What about your father and brothers?"

"I tried to invite them, Katniss, but Mother wouldn't have it. She'll probably pressure them out of not going. Quite a shame, really - I was hoping to recruit my dad into walking you down the aisle, since yours..."

Before I know what I'm doing, I've given him a hug. "Thank you," I express, a small smile forcing its way onto my face. "You did your best."

He grins back. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow." He suddenly swoops down and pecks me right on the lips. I blink in surprise. "Until then."

I actually chuckle. "Until then."

Why do I feel flutters in my stomach as he strides out of my bedroom?

* * *

Bright and early Saturday morning, I don my wedding dress. Holding up the train, Prim guides me through town to the Justice Building. I try to ignore the gawking onlookers peering at us from out their doors and windows. And ignore their whispers, for that matter.

"Katniss Everdeen taking a husband? Getting married?

"Never thought I'd see the day!"

"No idea how the Mellark boy wooed a fiery soul like her!"

Ha! If only they knew the truth.

Prim and I enter through a back door of the Justice Building, and are led to the Chief Clerk's office. Peeta waits inside, all alone, and I feel a pang of sympathy for him. At least I have my sister. Him? He has no family here to see him get married, and it isn't due to irreversible circumstances. Yet when Peeta sees me, his face lights up as if he has not a care in the world.

"You look beautiful," he whispers to me. I find myself blushing.

The Chief Clerk smiles at us both. "Well, then. If everyone is here, let us begin..."

"Wait!" barks Thread, who is lining the back of the office with other Peacekeepers. It does not seem remotely necessary. What does he think we're going to do? Run? I certainly can't - not now. "We haven't got a witness!"

"I can do it!" Prim pipes up.

"Someone who is _of age_ ," Thread corrects, and I scowl at his condescending tone. The Vice Peacekeeper snaps his fingers and several of his men hustle out of the office. I look worriedly at Peeta.

"What are they doing?"

"Going to find a witness," he shrugs, grimacing helplessly.

And what a witness they find. For when the men return...

"THE _FUCK_ YOU DRAG ME DOWN HERE FOR, THREAD?! REAPING DAY'S NOT FOR ANOTHER MONTH!"

I stare in abject horror as Haymitch Abernathy himself, District 12's only living Victor of the Hunger Games, is frog-marched by his arms into the Chief Clerk's office. Even if I _had_ ever entertained the thought of what my wedding would be like, I would never - in my wildest dreams - have imagined that I would marry with only a falling-down drunk as a witness.

"We need you as a witness for this marriage, Abernathy! Poor kids don't have anybody else! And you need to walk her down the aisle!"

At Thread's command, Haymitch's bloodshot eyes try to focus on mine, to little avail. "You don't look too bad. But can you make this quick, sweetheart?"

I scowl. Why is every man I meet suddenly calling me sweetheart?

Trying not to openly cringe, I take Haymitch's arm as he walks me down the aisle. Well, actually, it's more like he stumbles down the aisle. It's honestly hard to tell who's walking whom.

The Chief Clerk hastily puts the documents in front of us. One is the official marriage contract. My soon-to-be-husband signs his name - Peeta Joseph Mellark. I follow suit, signing my maiden name for the last time - Katniss Sierra Everdeen. Then it's the drunk's turn. It takes Prim's and my combined efforts to get him to sign Haymitch Abernathy across the dotted line.

"Mr. Mellark, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," Peeta smiles, beaming with pride.

"And do you, Ms. Everdeen, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," I affirm.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

I'm ready this time. When Peeta swoops me into his arms and kisses me, I take him by surprise when I seize his lapels and pull him closer, passionately kissing him back. I know Thread is watching, so I have to sell it. Besides, Peeta is a _really_ good kisser...

Prim dutifully applauds, and Haymitch clumsily joins in. Then, without warning, he barfs all over Thread and promptly faints dead away. Peeta and I cannot help but burst out laughing at the look on the Vice Peacekeeper's face.

"We'll always remember that, sweetheart!"

I can't help it. I kiss Peeta chastely on the lips.

Before we can leave, the Chief Clerk also has us both sign documentation so we can become Prim's legal guardians. We are then given the deed for our house that District 12 provides all newly married couples. It is on the edge of the Seam, right over the Merchant border. Peeta and I walk arm-in-arm to the place, Prim skipping in front of us. As for Haymitch, he is carried from the hall and all the way back to Victors Village.

As we approach the front door of our new home, Peeta bows with a flourish. "May I, Mrs. Mellark?"

"What are you - Ohhh!" I squeal as Peeta suddenly sweeps me off my feet and carries me, bridal-style, across the threshold. He kisses me once before I can object, Prim applauding.

"Primrose, stoke up the fire!" Peeta gently instructs.

There is one more tradition that has to be observed: the toasting. Every married couple, whether Merchant or Seam, toasts a bit of bread and shares it on their wedding night. No one in District 12 feels truly married without this formality.

My - I still can't believe it - _husband_ toasts the bread to perfection, as only a baker's son can. We each share a piece, giving the remainder to Prim, before sealing it with a kiss. In only two days, I have become quite accustomed to Peeta Mellark's lips pressed against my own.

By now, the sun is setting, and Prim falls asleep on the couch. We still have to move what possessions we still have over from our mother's house, and I don't know what Peeta intends to bring. But there is at least one double bed with a mattress... ready for Peeta and me.

As Peeta changes into his nightclothes in our bathroom, I tenderly take off my wedding dress and hang it in the closet. I can feel myself shaking, and it's not from the chill. I must prepare myself for what I know is to come. It will hurt, so I've been told. But I must give myself to him. I am his wife now; Peeta will not refuse me. And if nothing else, it can serve as a thank you. For saving my life, and Prim's. For Peeta really did just that. He saved our lives.

As soon as Peeta emerges from the bathroom, I launch my naked body at him. Framing his face in my hands, I tenderly kiss his lips, his cheeks, his necks, everywhere. I'm still an awkward kisser, I know, but I hope he knows as little as I do about making love. When my husband does not respond, remaining stiff, I rub my bare breasts and womanhood up against his body. I even grope for his balls and cup them in my hand. Peeta lets out a choking sound.

"Katniss... what are you doing?"

"Ssssssssshhhhhh," I whisper, molding him in my palm faster. "Just... mmmmmmm... just let me... please..."

"Katniss." Peeta pulls away from my embrace, taking me by the shoulders so he can look me in the face. "Look at you! You're crying... why are you crying?" It's true. The thought of sleeping with, losing my virginity to, a man who is still almost a stranger makes my eyes prick with tears.

"Katniss..." and Peeta's voice is gentle. "You don't have to give me that."

"But it's our wedding night! Isn't this what you want? How else can I repay you?"

"Just be my wife. Be a good mother to Prim. That's payment enough. I'll do the rest. Make you happy. You and Primrose will want for _nothing_." His hand brushes my cheek. "I promise."

He won't make me do anything I don't want to do. And I am so grateful. If I had married freely or actively sought a mate, Peeta would have been an ideal choice.


	3. Chapter 3: Special Delivery

**Chapter 3: Special Delivery**

It is almost frightening, how quickly I get used to waking up with a man on the other side of my bed. And I've only been married a few short days!

I do not rise with the dawn to go hunting the morning after our wedding night. Then again, I never hunt on Sundays anyhow. Peeta is up, though. Around 6 AM, I feel him give me a kiss on the cheek as he leaves for his family's bakery.

On Wednesday morning, however, Peeta gets a call from his father telling him to not come into work.

I am about to leave on a hunt and bring us back game for a late breakfast when there is a knock at the door. Peeta answers the door, me close behind. It's the middle Mellark son, Rye.

"Hey, little brother. How was your bed last night?"

I blush furiously, not amused by my... brother-in-law's suggestive jokes. Peeta and I have not done anything in our still-young marriage. Rye, however, must notice my expression, for he laughs.

"I'll take that to mean it was great, then."

Peeta sighs. "What, Rye? What's going on?"

"I just... brought you something you'll probably need." And he steps back to reveal his tidings. I stare. It's a large iron oven. By the make of it, it probably came from the Seam. Even then, it would be hard to tell, with how the metal glistens - it's been freshly washed and polished.

Peeta runs his hand tentatively over the surface, awestruck. "Where did you _get_ this?"

"Would you believe me if I told you the Slag Heap? Course, it looked a lot worse than it does now. I hauled it back to our alley; had to fix it during the nights when everyone else was asleep. Mother would have my hide if she knew I was helping you like this."

Peeta noticeably stiffens at the mention of his mom, but it is soon gone. He must feel bad for being snippy with his brother earlier. Indeed, Peeta gives him a fierce hug.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much this will help!"

I warmly approach and kiss Rye on the cheek. He blushes with an "Aw, shucks!" It's nice to have a brother, especially one so selfless as him. The middle Mellark clears his throat. "Want me to help you bring it in?"

After Rye and Peeta have carried the oven into our kitchen, and the former has left, my husband gets right to work taking out pots and pans and condiments I had already shuttled over from my mother's house.

"Isn't this great, Katniss? Now I can cook from home, and we'll supplement with whatever you catch in the woods!"

I smile softly. "I'm happy for you."

He shoots me a grin. "So... you wanna learn how to bake?"

I burst out laughing. "Bake? What do I do?"

"Oh, it's easy! Here: let's start small and simple." He pulls out a roll of dough and lays it flat on the countertop beside our new oven. "Now, when it comes to dough, you have to remember that it is malleable only to you. _You_ are in control of how flat it becomes..."

And he spends the rest of the morning teaching me how to knead dough.


	4. Chapter 4: Happy 1st Anniversary

**Chapter 4: Happy 1st Anniversary**

It's already been a year. A year ago today, I donned my mother's wedding dress and gave my marriage vows to a man I barely knew.

But in a mere 12 months, Peeta and I have come to know each other quite well. Every morning, we rise with the dawn; Peeta for the bakery, I for the woods. By now, we have timed it down to a science so that we are both ready at the same time. As we go out the door, we give each other a parting kiss before going our separate ways for the day. By the time I return from beyond the fence, the sun is over the horizon, and Prim is up getting ready for school.

Now that I'm a married woman, I no longer have to finish my education. I was given the option to do so, of course, but - between being a mother to Prim and a wife to Peeta - I figured I had enough on my plate as it is. After cleaning and preparing the game I have caught, I clean up about the house until half past two, when I go down to the Mellark Bakery to meet my husband in the back alley at the end of his shift. Hand-in-hand, we leave for the school to pick up Prim, and then it's homeward bound for the night.

So it is one evening, as my husband and sister and I all sit down for a dinner of deer venison and cheese buns. Peeta takes a swig of his milk.

"So, Primrose, how was school?"

"It was good. Hunger Games History was pretty interesting today."

I nearly choke on the hunk of deer I'm eating. I remember having that class - a crash course in which we review each and every Hunger Games that has occurred in Panem's 75-year history. "I can't imagine why." And I really can't.

"We reviewed Duke Vedaldi's win during the 13th Games, so it was more interesting than it usually is."

Peeta smiles. "Our first Victor. Right?"

"And second-to-last," I mumble into my glass.

Prim giggles. "We'll be learning about Haymitch's Games next week. His was a Quarter Quell, and we'll be watching some clips in honor of the Reading of the Card."

Every 25 years, a special edition of the Games - known as the Quarter Quell - take place to celebrate the anniversary of the rebellion's defeat. Haymitch won the Second such iteration of this event with twice as many tributes.

I suddenly don't feel very hungry anymore. "Go to bed, if you're finished," I order Prim, pushing away my plate. "You have a test tomorrow in your District 12 Mining class."

My sister excuses herself and goes up to bed after giving me and Peeta a good-night kiss. I make to follow her upstairs, as I'm pretty tired myself, when music suddenly floats towards me. I turn to see that Peeta has the remote control to our stereo in his hand, a slow song now playing over the airwaves.

"I think we have another, more meaningful anniversary to celebrate."

I smile at his hopelessly romantic style, and he takes me in his arms. My arms draped lazily over his neck, we sway to the music:

 _"I don't need you to sell me on reasons to want you. I don't need you to search for the proof that I should. You don't have to convince me. You don't have to be scared you're not enough. Cause what we've got going is good. / I don't need more reminders of all that's been broken. I don't need you to fix what I'd rather forget. Clear the slate and start over. Try to quiet the noises in your head. We can't compete with all that. / So what if it's us, what if it's us and only us? And what came before won't count anymore or matter. Can we try that? And what if it's you? And what if it's me? And what if that's all that we need it to be? And the rest of the world falls away... And the rest of the world falls away..."_

Peeta draws me closer, and my eyes flutter shut. I finally close the gap between us and capture his lips in a heated kiss. After what seems like days, we break apart.

"Happy Anniversary, my love."

I peck Peeta's lips. "Happy Anniversary."

* * *

 **A/N: Again with the musical theatre references! It's a trope in several of my other stories. These lyrics are from _Dear Evan Hansen_ \- fabulous soundtrack! **


	5. Chapter 5: Croak Goes the Mother-in-Law

**Chapter 5: Croak Goes the Mother-in-Law**

I pick up my stride as I turn the final corner for home. The heavy weight of my laden game pack sags down my shoulder, but I'll be able to store it soon enough. When I walk through the front door, Peeta is standing just off the main foyer, with a piece of paper in his hands.

"Hi," I smile, kissing his lips in greeting. He returns it less passionately than I expected. Peeta adores kissing me; usually his tongue is practically down my throat - a sensation I have come to not mind in the least during the three years we've been man and wife. Yup, something is definitely up with him.

I rest my hands on his chest, searching his eyes and face for answers. "What is it?"

"My, uh... dad sent me a letter this morning." Peeta at last meets my gaze. "My mother is dead."

I cover my mouth with my hand to stifle a gasp. "Oh, Peeta... what are you going to do? Are you going to go?"

"Yes. I feel I need to, for closure. But I'd like for you to come." He gives me a gaze so pleading, my heart melts for him. Taking his face in my hands, I kiss him deeply. He moans into my lips.

"Of course, honey. I'm making my rounds in the Hob today; I'll ask Greasy Sae to come up and be here when Prim gets home from school."

* * *

The day of my mother-in-law's funeral dawns with showery rains. I am annoyed that the weather dampens my mood, since this is a service for a woman whom I never met and who was, by all accounts, hateful to her family generally and Peeta especially. But I have to be supportive of my husband, and be there for him so he can grieve in his own way - whatever that is.

Dressed in the customary black and covered with an umbrella, Peeta and I make our way arm-in-arm to the Merchant cemetery. I see my father-in-law, the Baker, standing guard next to a brand-new headstone. His oldest son, Leven, is by his side along with his wife - Julie, I think is her name? She holds her seven-month old son - Peeta's and my nephew - in her arms. Rye stands a short distance away, welcoming the few other well wishers who attend. Devoted customers of the bakery, probably; I find it hard to imagine that Mrs. Mellark had many friends.

I hug my in-laws, lingering with the Baker. He was an old friend of my mother's, so I've been told, as they both grew up together in the Merchant sector.

The service is short, no frills or fuss. Peeta stares resolutely at his mother's final resting place the whole time, so hard that he might shoot lasers through it if he could. For the first time since I married him, his expression is... unreadable. But I can still sense what he must feel inside. Cold. Bitter. Anger, perhaps.

With how quickly the funeral passes, Prim is still not home from school when Peeta and I arrive home. Greasy Sae is waiting, but she retreats upstairs to clean the master bedroom, out of the goodness of her heart. And also to give my husband and I some privacy.

Peeta sits silently at the kitchen table. He looks pale and tired. Then, all at once, he breaks down in wracking sobs. I gather him in my embrace, situating myself in his lap and stroking his golden hair.

"Ssssshhhhh... ssssshhhhhh... let it go, my sweet love... let it go... _Deep in the meadow/Under the willow..._ "


	6. Chapter 6: Consummate Five Years Late

**Chapter 6: Consummate Five Years Late**

I can hear the sound of the shovel as Peeta labors out in the garden. I cannot help but steal a glance out our bathroom window to watch him work. I see his shoulder muscles rippling with the effort as he plunges the instrument into the earth, and I imagine what it might look like, feel like, if he plunged his dick into my…..

I feel the hot blood drop into my core and I force myself to look away. Sweet Panem! These hormones will drive me mad! You're a dirty girl, Katniss Sierra Everdeen Mellark! You're a dirty, dirty girl!

Five years. Five years married, and I have never plucked up the courage to have sex with my husband. Yes, waiting that long to consummate my marriage is embarrassing enough. If people start to ask us why we have not had a baby yet, I think I'll die of shame.

It's hard to believe I have kept my virginity this long, anyway. Not with how much I've noticed Peeta... physically through our years together. The way he comes up the path after his day at the bakery. The way he assembled Prim's new bed the other day. And now watching him garden…. Watching him bake, feeling the heat of the oven radiating off him, how it makes sweat appear on his brow...

I flick water at the mirror as I try to splash my face and calm down. Dammit!

I stalk into our bedroom. Lying on our bed, I hike up my skirt to my waist. I slip my fingers underneath the waistband of my panties and touch my wetness. I begin to rub my clit fast and hard. I imagine it is _Peeta_ doing this to me, pushing himself in and out, in and out…..

I rub faster, gasping out air, beads of sweat dripping down my forehead and my body. My free hand is gripping the sheets in my fist and I feel my lower half bucking off the bed more and more wildly.

"Oh… oh my… oh my… Peeta… Peeta…. Mmmm…."

"OH! I'm so sorry!"

My eyes snap open and I dare to turn towards the voice. Shit! I must not have heard him come in. Peeta is standing in the doorway looking thoroughly mortified, embarrassed that he walked in on me. He immediately does an about-face and prepares to leave the room.

"Wait!" I cry, ashamed that my voice sounds so desperate.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you wanted to be alone," he rambles without even turning around.

"But I don't want to be alone," I pant. The words hang in the air like smoke. Peeta slowly turns to face me, shocked. I give him my tenderest smile.

"Come here. Come to me," I whisper sweetly. Peeta obeys.

As soon as he is within my grasp, I lunge for him, pouncing for my prey. I climb him like a tree, peppering him with kisses everywhere my lips can reach. I practically throw the young man onto the bed, and make him mount me. He is kissing me back, now, but won't put his hands on me.

"Peeta….." I wheesh. "I need you….. to touch me. Please, please, just touch me!" And I take his hands in my own and guide them to my breasts.

Confident that there is nothing to fear, that this is what I want, Peeta begins to stroke my body everywhere. He kneads my breasts like dough, dances his fingers along my thighs as he uses them to nudge my legs apart. Every single touch he gives, lights my body up to the heat of a thousand suns. I can't take it anymore!

"You need to be inside me by the time I count to three!" I growl. I guide him towards my center without even bothering to count. Peeta pushes in after initial reluctance; the look I give him makes it clear that I _have_ to have this.

Slowly, once unified, Peeta begins to slide in and out, in and out. Happiness bursts onto my face so hard, I'm afraid it will break me. I drape my arms across his back, using his incredibly manly body as a tether to keep me from spinning off into space. When pleasure replaces initial pain, I actually begin to laugh.

"What is it?" Peeta hisses out.

"I'm….. I'm actually having a really good time!" I giggle; I almost sound drunk. And maybe I am. Drunk on him!

"Me too." It's taking any extra effort he has just to get air to speak.

I give him a plaintive look. "Don't hold back."

"Ohhhhhhh…" Peeta moans like a ghost and begins to thrust into me with wild abandon. He scoops my legs over his shoulders. He is pounding into me; I bouncing right along with him. The bed creaks and sways. My eyes are as wide as saucers. I love how Peeta fucks!

"Oh! OH!" I can only make airy, high-pitched noises as I ride through the feelings coursing through me. At long last, I cannot keep it in any longer, and I explode, riding my orgasm out even as my vision becomes spotty. Quivering, I can feel Peeta spill himself inside of me. He is breathing hard, grunting, exhausted. With his last ounce of strength, he rolls off of me.

"I've….. I've wanted to do that for so long," he gasps.

I can't help it. I crack up. "Why didn't you try?" I chortle. "We've been married for five years."

"I had _no idea_ you wanted me to!" Peeta protests, stunned by my admission.

I snuggle closer to him. "Well, from now on, know that when I want to make love, it's because I want to." I blush. "I want you, Peeta."

He kisses my nose, then my lips chastely, a smile playing on his mouth. "I want you, too, Katniss."


	7. Chapter 7: Let's Stay Married

**Chapter 7: Let's Stay Married**

"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday, dear Primrose! Happy Birthday to you!" Peeta sets down the magnificent cake he baked himself in front of my 18-year-old sister. It's a cap on a long summer of celebration, starting with her graduation in May and then surviving her last Reaping this June.

Prim closes her eyes to make a wish, and then blows out the candles. My husband and I clap and cheer.

The cake is divine. As she is the birthday girl, Prim is naturally entitled to most of it. And she _does_ eat most of it. So much, in fact, that she quickly excuses herself mid-way through the desert so she can go to the bathroom.

Now left alone, Peeta suddenly takes out a fold of papers and pushes them across the table to me. I pick them up, curious.

"What's this?" I frown.

"I haven't forgotten our deal, Katniss," and I am concerned about the almost sad smile I see on Peeta's face. "You and Prim are both of age now. You are free to divorce me now... if you still want to..." Afraid I'll misinterpret, he adds quickly, "Whatever you decide, I'll understand -"

I gape at him. Then I actually burst out laughing. "Now, why would I do that? After six years of marriage? And with a baby on the way!"

Peeta's mouth falls open and he drops his fork with a clatter. I had imagined more romantic ways of telling my husband that I am carrying his child, but... what's done is done.

"You're... you're..."

I smile. "I'm due in seven months. I think our daughter should have both her parents in the house - and still _married_ \- wouldn't you agree? We got married; we stay married - no matter how it happened."

Peeta throws himself across the table at me, and gives me the most passionate kiss he's ever bestowed.


	8. Chapter 8: The End

**Chapter 8: The End**

They play in the Meadow: my five-year-old daughter, my handsome husband, and my 23-year-old sister. Having raised Prim since she was small, I am so proud of the woman she has become. She is engaged to Rory Hawthorne; the couple will be married later this spring. From my family's picnic blanket, I swaddle Peeta's and my infant son... who now wakes from his dreaming with a plaintive cry.

"Ssssshhhhhh... sssshhhhh..." I nurse him to calm his wails. "Did you have a nightmare? I have nightmares too. But I'll tell you how I survive it. I make a list in my head, of all the good things I've seen someone do. Every little thing I can remember. It's like a game. I do it over and over. It's gotten a little tedious these past few years, but there are _much_ worse Games to play."

* * *

 **A/N: Hey everybody! So this was a short one that I threw together. I happened upon the cover image, and could not decide between it and another one, so I wrote this quickly to accommodate the image! Review on this piece if you like! I always love to hear everyone's thoughts!**

 **Head's up: I have another epic in the works, so if you are a fan of _Child of the Games_ , _Sole Victor_ , _Genuine Star-Crossed Lovers_ or _Yearning for Love Anew_... GET EXCITED! The chapters are split into larger PARTS, which is something I've never done before. I have it all outlined, but it may be a while before I even start writing it. I don't usually publish stories piecemeal, but if you guys are itching for a taste, I'll write you a teaser and drop that ASAP to keep you satiated! Give me your feedback on this, and I will follow by whichever route is more popular!**

 **Love you all! Thanks!**


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